


My Only Option, My Best Choice

by Idzzdi



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Bambi - Freeform, First Dates, Flower Child Harry, Flowers, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Movie Night, Romantic Fluff, Valentine's Day, lilies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 10:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idzzdi/pseuds/Idzzdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry beams at him, slowly setting down the food container and then digging out the DVD to show the cover to Louis.<br/>“Bambi?” Louis asks with wide eyes. “That's what you bring to a first date?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Only Option, My Best Choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lxrrytbh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lxrrytbh/gifts).



> Hi (:
> 
> Thanks to my lovely prompter from a bunch of amazing prompts! The Bambi one stood out the mst to me, so I went with that. The whole thing kinda wrote itself, so it went a little off prompt, but I hope you like it anway!!
> 
> Happy Valentine's Day everyone! x

Harry is working his shift like he does every Thursday after classes in the little flower shop only two streets from the apartment building he lives in. Usually it's a very easy going, almost slow job, but Harry loves it. Loves being with the flowers in his own strange way, loves that Niall can pop in from their shared flat for little study breaks to come chat with him. He loves his regulars, an old lady who comes by every Thursday to get new flowers for the vase in her kitchen she tells Harry about, or the working dad who rushes by just before closing time to collect a bouquet of flowers every two or three weeks; when Harry asks him about it, he tells him its' his grandfather's secret to a happy marriage: a man shouldn't switch his razor blades more frequently than bring his wife flowers. So far it seems to be working out for him and even though Harry doesn't really see himself having a wife in the future, he still smiles back at the guy whenever he comes in and gives him an extra single daisy for his little daughter.

This Thursday however, Harry's regular routine is a little different, because they're only three days away from Valentine's Day. There's not really a rush with customer yet, but they're stocking up on roses and different flowers in all shades of red and pink as well as various cards and other random little gifts. His coworker Liam is there with him today, checking all the boxes that arrived earlier that day and unpacking the flower deliveries together with Harry.

When the little bell over the doors chimes Liam nudges Harry in the side with a nod towards the front of the shop.

“Can you go get it? I still need to go over these last few boxes.”

“Sure,” Harry nods and sets down the box of cards he was holding before making his way from their little back room to the front of the shop. There a lone boy, with his arms crossed over his chest eyeing the flower displays in the window suspiciously.

“Hi,” Harry says and watches the boy jump a little as he turns to face Harry. His eyes are bright blue and his mouth twisted into a scowl. “Can I help you with something?”

“Eh,” the boy starts, untangling his arms from in front of his chest. “I'm looking for some flowers.”

“Well,” Harry says with a bemused smile and a quick look around the flower laden room. “You've come to the right place.”

The boy only scowls some more and purses his lips. So he's not up for jokes, Harry decides, and gives the boy a friendly smile.

“What kind of flowers would you like?” he asks professionally, walking up behind the counter to grab a little notepad, opening a few drawers in search of a pencil.

“Something red?” the boy asks, sounding uncertain. “And like, romantic, I guess.”

“Valentine's Day, huh?” Harry asks with a slow smile. He scribbles _V-Day_ onto his note pad and adds a sad smiley-face, because the boy is really rather attractive. How unfortunate that he apparently already has someone to give flowers to on Valentine's Day.

“Uhm, yeah,” the boy admits with a sheepish smile. “I really don't know what flowers would look good, but I've got her address right here,” he waves a piece of paper through the air “and the budged is 25 pounds, so if you could just deliver them on Sunday..” he trails of with a shrug.

Harry gives him a frown. An unpersonal delivery and a budget sound rather unromantic to him.

“Okay,” he drawls anyway, making a few more notes on his pad, “What kind of flowers does she like then?”

“I dunno, uh.. Harry,” he replies with a quick look towards Harry's name tag and another lazy shrug. “I don't know her all that well to be honest. Just get her flowers and a card to go with it or a stuffed bear or whatever's romantic right now.”

“They don't call you Romeo, do they?” Harry mutters under his breath as he draws another frowning smiley-face on his notes.

“Excuse me,” the boy huffs and Harry realizes he probably didn't speak as lowly as he thought he had.

“Sorry,” he mumbles right away, feeling his face go hotter under the boy's intense gaze.

“They call me Louis, which is my name,” the boy – _Louis_ – huffs, giving Harry a sharp look.

“I'm sorry,” Harry mumbles, scratching his neck awkwardly. “It's just, most people hand deliver their flowers, but it's obviously none of my business, sorry,” he tries to explain himself, but Louis' face only darkens even more.

“Damn straight, it's not. Who are you to judge my mate, because he can't be here in London this weekend? I'll let you know his mother is sick and he's- wait,” Louis stops himself, giving Harry a curious look. “You didn't think those flowers were for my girlfriend, did you?”

“Well,” Harry says, at a loss for words. “Are they not?”

“Do I look particularly straight to you?” Louis asks and blinks at him. Harry bites his tongue quite literally as he casts a careful look up and down Louis' body. He wouldn't dare and hope, and also he's not one to judge people's sexualities based on their outer appearance. When he tells Louis so he only gets an eye roll in return.

“Of course you're not,” Louis hums, rolling his eyes again. “You're one of _those_ ,” he says offhandedly.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Harry asks guardedly, not sure if Louis is being mean or playful. Or both.

“You know,” Louis says with a shrug and a roll of his eyes. “The d _on't judge a book by it's cover_ , _watch black and white movies_ , _never eats in bed_ kind of person.”

To say Harry feels a bit baffled is an understatement and he's ready to defend himself, but Louis isn't paying him much attention anymore, instead roaming along the long window side with flowers stocked all along.

“These are pretty,” he says, running his hands over a batch of yellow lilies. “Need a bit of water though, don't they?” he then asks, giving Harry a quick look. Harry is still a stunned, but catches himself, blinking a few times.

“Uh, no. They're glacier lilies. The blossom hangs down, but the petals are shaped upwards to create the illusion of a bigger blossom and attract potential pollinators.”

“Doesn't sound like the kind of thing you would wanna attract on Valentine's Day,” Louis replies with a snort and takes another two steps towards the roses by the door. “Let's just go with roses then, I guess,” he says with a shrug and a nod towards the notepad in Harry's hand.

“Uh, sure,” Harry nods, scribbling down the word _roses_ , like he's going to forget abut this. “You want me to just put together a bouquet then? Add some whites and greens as well?”

“Sure, whatever you think would look best,” Louis agrees. “I think we already established I'm not really the romantic type.”

“Well, lucky for you, I am,” Harry says with a smile and he watches Louis lips twitch up in amusement. “I mean,” he stammers then, hastily wringing his hands together “lucky for your friend. And his, uh, girlfriend.”

Louis laughs at that, slowly following Harry towards the old little desk near the back where Harry busies himself with punching Louis' order into their barely working cash register.

“Should've pegged you as a romantic as well, really,” Louis mutters, sounding thoughtful. “What're your plans then, Sunday?”

“Um,” Harry hesitates, going a bit red. “Don't have any.”

“Naw,” Louis hums, tilting his head to the side. “If you had plans though, what would you do?”

“Well,” Harry hesitates again, his fingers hovering over the register. “Depends on the person I'd be seeing, I guess?” he says, his voice going up in the end of the sentence like a question. His eyes flicker up to meet Louis' for moment before he looks down again to finalize Louis' order and print the receipt.

“Fascinating,” Louis nods, looking over the receipt quickly and singing it at the bottom. As he hands it back over along with some cash he gives Harry an odd look. “If it were me, then. What would we do?”

Harry blinks up at him, his hand hovering awkwardly between them, holding the receipt and cash Louis just gave him.

“Are you- are you asking me out?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself, because really, how often do lovely boys come into the flower shop to ask Harry out? Never, that's how often.

“Well, currently I'm trying to decide whether or not it'd be worth giving up my Sunday night alone time,” Louis says cockily, but it has little bite and he finishes it off with a wink towards Harry as he cocks his hip against the shitty little desk.

“I can guarantee you it'll be worth it,” Harry promises quickly and mentally pats himself on the back. Way to not come across like a desperate loser!

Louis in return gives a him a blinding smile and a raise of his eyebrows.

“You're setting the bar rather high for yourself, love,” he says through his grin, but he certainly doesn't sound unpleased.

“Well,” Harry says aimlessly, because he doesn't know how to follow that up.

“You wanna do eight then? Does that work for you?” Louis asks, reaching around the cash register to where Harry laid down his notepad. He grabs the pen right out of Harry's hand and starts scribbling onto the paper.

When Harry doesn't reply Louis just looks up at him from where he's writing and gives him a curious look, one eyebrow raised again.

“Uhm, yeah. Eight, yeah. Sounds fine,” Harry scrambles, awkwardly playing with his hands along the edge of the desk. Did he just get himself a Valentine's Day date?

“Well great,” Louis replies with a grin and shoves the notepad back into Harry's hand. “Here's my address. I'll be waiting at eight, ready to be amazed by your romancing skills!”

“Okay,” Harry says hesitantly. Maybe he shouldn't have laid it on as thickly. Too late now though, is it.

“I'll see you Sunday, Harry,” Louis says then with a laugh, turns around and is out the door of the little shop a moment later.

  


~

  


Harry is an idiot for raising the bar this high for himself. Normally he would just do dinner and a movie for a first date if it was spontaneous like this, but he's procrastinating coming up with something fun to do for him and Louis, and by Saturday night he's way too late to make reservations in a restaurant for Sunday night. The next best thing seems to be cooking for Louis himself, but they're meeting at Louis' place, not Harry's and Harry doesn't have his number to call him up and change their plans around. He could of course just bring ingredients to cook at Louis' place, but he wouldn't have proper time to prepare everything and also he's not sure if maybe that would be coming on a bit too strongly. He's still not quite sure if this is a _well we both had nothing better to do and you said dates with you are always amazing-_ kind of date or if Louis is actually into him and would have asked him out either way. Harry's not so sure he really wants to know.

In the end he doesn't have much of a choice left, because he ironically underestimated the amount of work he would be swarmed with come Valentine's Day. So Sunday he's up on his feet by five to head to work and unpack that day's huge flower deliveries. He should have been off by five thirty that night, but they were running behind on their deliveries, so Harry has to stay and help Liam and the other guys out a bit longer before he can head out. By the time he gets home he barely he has enough time left to shower, grabs his things and head over to Louis' place.

The address Louis wrote down for him isn't too far from Harry's own place and he even manages to stop by his favorite Thai place to pick up some food and still make it to Louis' place in time. Well, maybe he's three minutes late, but no more.

As he rings Louis' doorbell and gets buzzed into the building, making his way up the flight of stairs he tries to tame his hair a bit without dropping any of the items in his hands. It's not much use, his hair unruly and curly as ever, so Harry can only hope that it gives him a rugged look and that that turns out to be something Louis likes.

When he reaches the correct floor Louis is standing in the doorway of his flat, his hips cocked against the door frame, head tilted lightly with an amused smile on his lips. Harry can't help but look up and down the boy in front of him for a moment, admiring the loose jeans and soft lavender jumper Louis is wearing and the easy way his hair naturally falls.

“Hi,” he says, a bit breathless from the amount of stairs he just took.

“Hi,” Louis replies slowly, his eyes wandering up to Harry's hair for a moment before his smile widens the tiniest bit.

“Oh, um,” Harry mumbles and blushes, trying to run his hand through his hair again, but the food container in his hands almost goes flying, so he scramble after it, taking a few seconds to manage to hold onto all the items in his arms without toppling over himself. Louis lets out an audible chuckle and beckons Harry closer.

“Want me to help you with anything?”

“Oh, well, yes you can take, uh,” he trails off, trying to pull out the flowers he brought for Louis from the store. He hid them strategically clever beneath the takeout containers, so they're a little flat right now. “You can take these, here,” he says, handing the crooked little bouquet to Louis.

“Oh,” Louis says, sounding surprised, but pleased nevertheless as he takes the flowers. “The _no water needing_ lilies,” he tacks on with a look towards the flowers and a grin.

“Um, yeah,” Harry laughs a little awkwardly. “You, eh, you said you like them and by the end of today we were all out of roses anyway, so I thought you might like those.”

“They're pretty, thanks,” Louis nods, giving Harry a quick look, before looking back down at the flowers, his cheeks going a bit pink. He steps back, after a second, inviting Harry in and so Harry follows him into the flat, past two different bedrooms to which Louis vaguely gestures and says “mine” and “Zayn's” before they get to kitchen. It's rather big and has a comfortable looking couch crammed into the narrow space between the fridge and the balcony door, and a shitty little TV right across from it, hazardously attached to the wall.

“So,” Louis prompts as he takes one of the mismatched drinking glasses from the cupboard and fills it with water to put the flowers in. “What are our plans? Should I change?”

“No, no, you look great,” Harry says right away and from where he stands by the balcony he can see an almost bashful smile creeping up Louis' lips again. “Um, I just brought some takeaway and a movie for us to watch. It's probably not what you expected, but I didn't know what you'd like and it was all kind of spontaneous, even though it was technically three days, but like, I kinda started late and then I got all wrapped up in work today and now it's kinda shit, so I'm-”

“Do you ever stop rambling?” Louis interrupts him, an amused look on his face as he fluffs the flowers in the makeshift vase and places them in the middle of the counter.

“Am I rambling? I'm- I'm sorry, um.”

“It's cute,” Louis tells him, taking a step towards him. “And takeaway and a movie sounds great. Won't get you high on the romance chart, but sounds perfect to me.”

“The movie I brought is proper romantic though, and kinda sad. Perfect for Valentine's Day,” Harry says happily, trying to dig out the DVD case from underneath the takeaway container in his arms. He really should set all of this stuff down.

“Yeah, what'd you bring? _Love Actually_?” Louis teases.

“No, _Bambi_ actually.” Harry beams at him, slowly setting down the food container and then digging out the DVD to show the cover to Louis.

“ _Bambi_?” the boy asks with wide eyes. “That's what you bring to a first date?”

“It's the perfect first date movie!”

“How is that a perfect date movie? Please do tell,” Louis laughs, his eyes going wide.

“Well, it's kinda sad so you can snuggle up to me and hide the fact that your crying over the mom dying, but it's still cute and kinda funny at times, so it's too heavy to ruin the mood,” Harry explains confidently. It's a strategy he firmly believes in.

“Okay, first of all, I'm not going to cry, so there's the first flaw in your plan, and second of all, what part your plan is going to get me thinking about your dick?” he asks openly and Harry has a hard time schooling his face into something impassive. So Louis is probably genuinely interested in him; after all they haven't even had their food yet and they're already talking dick.

“Well, looks like your thinking about it just fine without me prompting you to do so,” Harry replies and baths in the way Louis' cheeks go the tiniest bit pink.

“Whatever,” he huffs, grabbing the DVD from Harry's hand. “I will not cry,” he says with emphasis as he slides the DVD into the player and instructs Harry to get them plates and set up the food as he sets up the film and gets them drinks.

They eat the food and drink their drinks and in the end of course Louis cries like a baby, telling Harry with a shaky voice that he's “only doing it, so your plan will work out”, pressing his runny nose against Harry's shoulder. It's certainly not the worst that could happen and somehow they end up making out between the takeaway containers on the couch, Harry's hands down the back of Louis' pants when Louis' flatmate, _Zayn,_ Harry recalls, comes stumbling through the apartment door, catching them with red, kiss swollen lips and the _Bambi_ DVD menu playing on repeat.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! Leave a comment or kudos to brighten my Valentine's Day :)


End file.
